Ivan and Buttercup
by TakisAngel
Summary: It's the dead of night, and a small stablehand somehow snuck into the stables, going to see his favorite horse and comfort her in the height of winter. The two will not be together forever, however, and the next morning, a Dutchman comes to visit. Oneshot, Stablemaster!Mongolia and Stablehand!Russia, Horsemaster AU.


**Author's Note:**

 **To the four people who read my work,**

 **Sorry I haven't been posting anything lately, it's the end of the marking period at school and there's been a ton of tests, yada yada. You heard it all before, I'm sure, but rest assured, I have a couple stuff in the works that'll probably make you happy, and a super long historical fic about Romania that I'll finish sometime next month maybe. It's about communism, so that'll be fun. Anyway, while I'm busy procrastinating, here's a small drabble (not really a drabble, it's like 5 pages, but you get the point) about adorable Ivan being adorable, with Mongolia of course. I hope you like it, and I hope this will make you forget about me not posting anything for two weeks. Again, sorry about that. Enjoy!**

It was cold in the stables. Dust mites choked the air and straw poked into one's feet when they walked across the wooden barn, but the worst thing, Ivan thought, was that it was so cold. The frozen air would dig in from the outside and settle around the barn, and frost could be seen on the white edges of farthest bits of straw, making the horses stomp their feet to warm up and shake their manes to dispel any of the clawed cold that had managed to sneak its way close.

In fact, the cold was one of the reasons the small Russian boy was even in the stables at the height of winter. The boy shoved his worn scarfed closer to his face, pinched pink by the growing cold, as he grabbed an apple from one of the bags that he had taken with him on his mad run to the barn, and took a blanket out of the other. Puffing with pride for remembering to bring something for himself to eat this time, he quickly passed the brilliant red, rare, and extremely delicious apple to the horse that stood beside him and bit into one of his own, patting the straw beneath him and plopping down with a thud.

"See Buttercup? I got ya one. I got ya an apple! Like with Baby-face and Red-eyes and Snowflake! I remembered, I sure did! I remembered and got ya an apple. You like it?" Ivan looked at the horse who immediately nodded its approval, blowing a breath of hot air to ruffle the boy's hair. Ivan fixed it with a giggle and took another bite of his apple. "We had a lot of fun, Buttercup, a lotta fun. Especially during last summer, you 'member that? You would run in the fields and I'd chase after ya and you would let me ride you and we fell asleep in the sun and-" Ivan continued to list off their happy memories, shifting the blanket more securely on the horse and digging into the straw to find a more comfortable position. He droned on, talking about their snowball fights in the cold winter and how he would bring her apples sometimes even when Munkhbat told him not to, and how he taught her to walk and run and play with the other horses, even though the boss Munkhbat always said that Buttercup wouldn't grow up to be anything, that her legs were too weak and body too small to work. "You sure showed him wrong Buttercup," he giggled, his mind almost in a drugged-like state from the pull of sleep that wore on him and the sweet scent of apples that licked the air. "You were super strong, you just needed a push! And Munkhbat said that if I could give you that push, he'd let me name you, and I did Buttercup! I named you, cause you were my horse."

Buttercup nuzzled the half asleep boy's face, licking his hair and sending another warm breath to make him giggle. The two friends stayed that in that position, Buttercup kindly standing by his side and nudging him asleep with an inner warmth in her coffee-colored eyes, and Ivan drifting off and sighing into his horse when he crossed a bad thought, only to be comforted and put to sleep again. The moon came and went, and the stars sank from the sky, allowing the brilliant sun to shine the world into color once more. And with that golden brilliance came a slam of the door and an irritated voice shocking them awake.

"Ivanjaav? What are you doing in the stables?! You'll freeze to death! God, every time you do this Ivanjaav, every time," he muttered to himself stomping over to the dazed boy and slapping his head, forcing the tiny Russian back into reality and startling the horse, making it shuffle in confusion. "Get up boy, we have things to do. The customer will arrive any minute and the horse needs to look presentable! Stop dawdling and move!"

The stable hand quickly obeyed and shoved himself off the floor, running over to the box where they kept the cleaning supplies and rushing back with an armful of more brushes than most people knew existed threatening to fall out of his hands. The next hour passed by quickly as he hastily swept Buttercup head to toe, making her ginger coat glow a soft gold as the sunlight bounced off her and around the stables, and half-jealous mummers could be heard from among the other horses as she transformed from a simple beast to a graceful mare. Ivan stood back to admired his work when again Munkhbat snapped at him to get a move on, and Ivan quickly placed a rope around Buttercup's neck and walked her outside, feet crunching in the snow as the horse followed close behind him.

Ivan glanced away from his golden horse to see a blank-faced man standing next to Munkhbat, with strange yellow hair and a harsh scar that ran near his eyebrow. If it wasn't for the hair, he would have matched perfectly to the owner of the stable that stood beside him. Ivan continued to study the two men, gripping the rope tighter as Munkhbat continued to gesture towards the horse in a fast language he didn't understand, his dark brown braid whipping the air as he turned around to the stable and pointed there as well, only to receive a shaken-headed no in response from the well-dressed man. The two exchanged more quick words before the golden man handed Munkhbat a big wad of money, and the two came to an agreement.

Munkhbat turned to the boy and looked at him up and down, at the way he was gripping the rope, standing as close as possible to the horse, and the way it seemed like the young Russian would bolt at any moment. The Mongol gave a final sigh before saying, "Ivanjaav, give me the horse."

Ivan stood as straight as a rod, hands clamping and mouth growing dry. He glanced at Buttercup, at his horse, before looking back at the stable master with a plea written in his eyes. Munkhbat shook his head and gestured for the rope, stone-faced and demanding.

"Give me the rope Ivanjaav."

Before he knew what he was doing, Ivan was moving the rope towards Munkhbat, his natural instinct to obey momentarily pushing out the mind-numbing fear that had seized his mind. Before he could jerk it back, the Mongol grabbed the rope and took the horse out of Ivan's hands, bringing it closer to him and the stranger and away from the small hands of her owner. More words snapped the air and the stranger gave another wad of money to the stable master, and then it happened.

Munkhbat handed the stranger the rope. Buttercup scampered after the pull of her lead, and the blond man patted her forehead in admiration before nodding to Munkhbat, feet shifting to move away.

"WAIT!" Ivan cried, running after Buttercup and pulling in front of the stranger, who furrowed his brows in confusion as the boy started to blubber at him in a language he didn't know.

"Ivanjaav!" Munkhbat snapped at the young boy, pushing him aside with his foot and muttering an apology to the bemused customer, smacking Ivan on the head to quiet his desperate pleas.

"Sorry about that," Munkhbat sighed in a strange tongue, shrugging and pushing the boy away from the pair of men. "He gets really attached to the horses."

"Who is he?" the Dutchman asked, studying the boy as Ivan stared at the horse yearning look on his face, hands growing wet as he rubbed his eyes and refused to look away.

"The stablehand. He practically raised that horse. He's more emotional over her than any of the others, that's for sure," the Mongol grunted, counting his money before almost guiltily glancing at the now crying boy, who looked like he was almost going to collapse in the snow. A moment passed, and Munkhbat cursed his weakness and once again, like all of the other customers, asked, "Is it okay if he said goodbye to the horse? That's what he usually does, and it'll make him feel better."

Another long moment passed, and a few deafening heartbeats later the Dutchman responded, "Fine."

"Hey Ivanjaav!" he barked, and Ivan perked up and quickly stumbled over to the horse, grabbing her head as she knelt down to look at the young boy in the eye, warm brown eyes reassuring him that she'll be fine. Ivan sniffled and snuggled into her head once again, before letting go and turning the horse's head so that he could Buttercup could see him as he gulped down his hesitation and his rising tears, and whisper his goodbye.

"Bye bye Buttercup."


End file.
